


Choices Winners Losers Slaves

by alternatedoom



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Fire Nation Won, Alternate Universe - The Villains Won, Anal Sex, Avatar Kink Meme, Bathing/Washing, Bisexuality, Captivity, Discussion of Impregnation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, Kink Meme, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Patriarchy, Sexism, Sexual Slavery, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatedoom/pseuds/alternatedoom
Summary: Sokka takes his turn with Zuko.





	Choices Winners Losers Slaves

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Untitled Zukka/Zutara](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/517388) by Anonymous. 

> Written for the Avatar Kink Meme as an unofficial continuation of the above untitled Zutara fill. [Original prompt ](https://avatar-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/285.html?thread=247837#t247837) was: _"Season 1 Zuko has successfully captured the Avatar, and his two Water Tribe companions, and has now set sail for the Fire Nation in triumph. While the Prince has realised that he needs at least one of the siblings to use as a hostage to keep the Avatar under control, he doesn't really need two extra mouths to feed. Zuko decides to have a bit of fun with the peasants, he is both attracted to Katara, and has a real urge to humiliate Sokka. His tells them that he will have sex with both of them, the one who pleases him the most will become his personal sex slave, while the other will be released unharmed at the next neutral port._
> 
> _Zuko's intention is to keep Katara, while releasing Sokka, who will then have to face the fact that, despite debasing himself and offering up his manhood, he has failed to protect his little sister from the big bad Fire Nation Prince. But this plan goes awry, due in part to a combination of Katara's reluctant naivety and Sokka's experienced determination. :)_
> 
> _Will there be a winner, and if so who? Or will Zuko decide to keep them both, or set both of them free, I'll let Anon decide. ;)"_
> 
> This is a part two for the fill above, and that fill should 100% be read first. I am late to this fandom by literally ten years and reading through the kink meme has been a true joy. Like a bunch of other anons (including one who commented as late as 2018!) I was crushed to scroll down and see an amazing fill for this killer prompt only half completed. So this is an unofficial follow-up. Original filler anon, should you ever see this, I apologize if I have stepped on your metaphorical toes, because I would kiss them if I could. Your fic was fascinating and super hot and this is how badly I wanted a Zukka part and an ending.
> 
> Katara is 16, Sokka is 17, Zuko is 19.

"Take your clothes off, then," Zuko says, watching Sokka from the steaming pool.

Scowling, Sokka unties his sash and throws it to the steel floor, then jerks his boots off one by one and casts them down. One rolls.

"Slower, it's not a race," Zuko says.

Sokka glares, but he shrugs out of his loose sky-blue overtunic more slowly, and once he's drawn the garment off he holds it dangling at arm's length from his body before releasing it to fall, staring Zuko down. The expression is not alluring.

"Want me to dance?" Sokka asks suddenly. His eyes remain hard and unforgiving, but the question is posed impassively.

Zuko makes a face. "Sounds undignified." Dancing is a foreign practice not done in the Fire Nation. Zuko's seen some dancing in the Earth Kingdom during his time searching for the Avatar. He wasn't impressed, and the mental image of this peasant boy privately performing leaps and twirls and contortions for him smacks of secondhand embarrassment. Like pointlessly executing the movements to bend an element without successfully bending, without even practicing for real bending. If anything, the thought brings back bad memories. Still, it's an oddly interesting suggestion. "Do you really want to?"

Sokka shrugs, breaking eye contact to pull off his fingerless gloves and discarding one to either side. "I want to be good _personal entertainment_," Sokka says determinedly. "Just trying to meet whatever your unknown criteria are, here."

Zuko shakes his head, still frowning. "Maybe another time. Just strip. Slowly."

Sokka unwinds the bracer wrappings around his wrists and forearms. The wrappings aren't the scraps Zuko was expecting, but some kind of tight-woven cloth that comes off in lengthy ribbons. These Sokka folds in a methodical, practiced set of gestures, and he places the loops they make at his feet.

While not exactly short, Sokka's fingers are on the stubby side in shape, with visible callouses and nails that look like they've been bitten to prevent growth rather than filed and buffed like a civilized person. Perhaps gnawed at a corner and then torn across, for they're not especially ragged and not chewed to the quick.

Sokka strips off his darker blue, more closely fitted undertunic, baring his chest. Balling the fabric up, Sokka pitches the apparel over his shoulder, as though he thinks tossing it half across the bathing quarters is grimly funny, or like he's satisfying a quota of floor space. His undertunic hits the wall before it drops.

When Sokka's hands go to the back of his neck to remove his choker, Zuko stops him. "Keep the collar on."

Sokka's contained rage boils over at that particular slight. "It's not a collar," Sokka bursts out furiously. "It's a warrior's carcanet." 

"It looks like a collar to me. Take off your pants."

Sokka's married anger and shame seem to grow exponentially, but he unties his pants at the waist and yanks them down, then steps out of the puddle they make on the shadowy gray metal of the floor. Beneath them Sokka's wearing a white mawashi-style peasant undergarment. He lets Zuko look at him for a moment before he pushes that down to his knees, then lets it fall, exposing his cock. While Sokka's not hard, he's not limp either. There's unmistakably some interest there, and Sokka's cock is above average size for his age and frame. Sokka's eyes are on Zuko's face for his reaction, and after a passing hint of dread, Sokka holds Zuko's gaze, glowering.

The brother isn't straightaway breathtaking to look at naked as his sister was, but there's a rough desirability to him, all lean angles and muscle where Katara was soft curves. Still the family resemblance is indisputable, as though they're fraternal twins instead of siblings a year or two apart. Sokka's bone structure isn't so fine as Katara's, and Sokka has a square, stubborn jaw, but their cheekbones are the same, and their tan skin, and their lips, and the streaks of their eyebrows are similar. Part of the disparity is the hair--Katara's is long and thick and flowing, Sokka's comparatively short and more than half cropped, shaved all the way to his skull in back and along the sides. Zuko likes Katara's hair much better. And Sokka's more inclined to narrow his eyes than his sister. He's both spare and stocky at once, the lines of his body suggesting he might be a bit more solid were he provided a more reliable food supply than the icy tundra probably offers. He looks strong, though. Zuko's never really _looked_ at him before, never studied him at any length.

"Turn around," Zuko tells him. "Slowly."

Sokka's still flushed red, and his face is fixed in a scowl, but he incrementally turns around. And that, Zuko sees, is where nature has distributed the sole quantity of fat on Sokka's lanky body. His ass looks nearly identical to his sister's-- firm, full, and rounded. Sokka's curvy silhouette is quite different from what Zuko's used to, but he likes the shape. The contours look very... fuckable.

Zuko jerks his chin sideways. "Get in."

Sokka approaches the sunken basin. "It looks... really hot. Uncomfortably hot."

"Either get in, or get out."

"Okay." Sokka could sit and slide down neatly into the basin, he could take the steps down, but instead he drops in feet first, splashing Zuko as he goes under. Zuko's already wet, but he still doesn't appreciate a wave of hot water to the face.

A second later Sokka bobs up and breaks the surface of the water close to Zuko, less than a foot away, dripping with his hair plastered to his head except for his stupid ponytail.

"I should hold you under for that," Zuko says of the splash to his face, but in truth his irritation has already passed. Briefly they stare at each other. Zuko feels calm and relaxed and somewhat aroused, though he hasn't seen enough to stir his cock yet. Sokka's sense of shame seems to have temporarily overtaken his fury, leaving him unable to hold Zuko's gaze any longer than a few moments.

Zuko waits.

Without speaking Sokka draws a visible breath and starts to dive underwater, but before he can fully submerge his head Zuko snatches his diminuitive ponytail and tugs him back up. Sokka looks startled, then dark with repressed anger.

"Bite me," Zuko warns him, "and the _misery_ I will inflict upon your sister--" He wouldn't, not really, but the threat sounds grave enough, and Sokka's reaction to it is vehement. Sokka bristles, showing his teeth, but Zuko doesn't even get to finish his sentence because Sokka dives underneath the water. Zuko wasn't holding his ponytail that tightly, and Sokka wrenches free from his hand. Zuko hadn't felt compelled to forewarn Katara this way, but up close Sokka feels... more intense than his sister. And potentially more volatile.

Beneath the hot water Sokka noses Zuko's cock where it lies against Zuko's thigh, sucking it into his mouth. Zuko exhales at the feeling as Sokka hums and pulses suction around his cock a few times, putting one robust hand to the base to grasp around the shaft with his thumb and forefinger. Zuko can feel the strength of his jaw, but Sokka carefully keeps his lips tacked over his teeth. Air bubbles stream up when Sokka breathes out, disrupting the lapping stillness of the surface.

Sokka breaks the surface of the water more dramatically as he comes up for air, eyes closed. Zuko watches him, but Sokka never opens his eyes, only takes a few quick breaths followed by one long inhale, and dips back down to resume his task. Sokka continues to firmly grip Zuko's cock at the base, though, never letting go, and never letting up. As Sokka takes Zuko's cock back in his mouth, Zuko tries an experimental thrust. Surprisingly, Sokka doesn't gag, only tilts his head to allow deeper access. Zuko's taken aback by the move, which shows both skill and experience.

Under the water Zuko puts his hands to Sokka's hank of hair, attempting to untie the string wound around the ponytail. This business is a challenge because both hair and binding are soaking wet, swollen with water, and Zuko can't see what he's doing, operating solely by feel.

Zuko soon gives up on the hair tie, letting his hands fall dormant in the water, and simply enjoying Sokka's mouth for three more rounds of underwater fellatio. The experience is a new and novel one, although the breaks so Sokka can breathe are annoying.

The fourth time Sokka surfaces, he blinks the water out of his eyes and meets Zuko's gaze, taking a few panting breaths before he tries to speak. "I can do this underwater if you want, but I can do it better if you let me lift your hips up," Sokka says flatly.

Though Sokka's lack of enthusiasm is not a turn-on, his straightforwardness is useful. Growing up surrounded by the scheming of politics and besieged by Azula's neverending web of lies and trickery, Zuko has little patience for people who won't be direct. And at least, unlike Katara, Sokka has ideas and initiative and needs only limited prompting.

Zuko shrugs acquiescence, stretching his arms out along the sides of the hot pool. "All right." Shifting more of his weight to his hands, Zuko floats his hips up nearer the surface.

Sokka stations his hands on either side of Zuko's ass, lifting Zuko's hips all the way to the surface of the water and exposing his hard cock to the cool air, which feels frigid after the heat of the bath and Sokka's mouth. Sokka licks his lips as he arranges himself in the water, bringing the bend of his neck to the right height and place to continue. Still supporting Zuko's ass, Sokka sinks his mouth back down on Zuko's cock, and the warm sensation feels so good Zuko's head tumbles back too fast and hard against the edge where the stone of the inset basin meets the steel of the floor. The resulting crack of his skull hurts. A week ago he would have growled at the pain in a pique of temper, but now Zuko only grimaces.

Deliberately he avoids Sokka's gaze, keeping focused up towards the ceiling. The carelessness was his, but he refuses to acknowledge the moment or let Sokka see in his eyes that Zuko, too, is capable of embarrassment. All this evening's humiliation belongs to Sokka, and Sokka alone.

"Sorry," Sokka says after a second, then returns to sucking him. Zuko thrusts up into Sokka's warm mouth, luxuriating in the hot suction. Sokka's blunt fingers around his cock feel eerily strong, his grip pleasurably unshakable until he loosens his grasp and begins jerking Zuko off while he sucks.

Not long passes before Zuko feels himself getting close to coming, and in a single quick movement he pulls his hips back beneath the water and pushes Sokka off. Since this is the sole occasion Zuko will be testing out his second Water Tribe commoner, curiosity wins out over immediate desire. "Let me see what else you're good for."

Sokka's eyes narrow with a baleful, smoldering sort of ambition. "Fine," he says, and using the sitting ledge he rises out of the pool to the thigh, kneeling and bending his chest down against the warm metal floor, and spreading his legs until his thighs are several inches apart. Sokka's positioned himself so Zuko can view him from the side, so Zuko sits back and watches as Sokka sucks two of his own fingers, then places them at his back door, probing.

Sokka closes his eyes, but with Sokka's face turned towards him, Zuko gets to watch the micro-expressions play across Sokka's face as he presses a finger inside to open up his hole.

Sokka adds more saliva and a second finger, his eyes clenching rigidly. The way he flushes with shame is almost as interesting as the things he's doing to himself. After a minute he begins to part his fingers, stretching himself, preparing.

After a while Sokka opens his eyes to look at Zuko, his face a blank and expressionless slate. His eyes are a deep azure blue unlike any Zuko can remember seeing before, except on Katara. You could get lost in their eyes, Zuko thinks, but it's a stupid juvenile thought to have and Zuko puts it out of his mind.

Sokka says, deadpan, "Are you just going to look at me all night? I mean, I can understand why you'd want to, but..."

"You're mouthier than your sister," Zuko observes.

"Just saying, feel free to jump in anytime." Sokka shuts his eyes again, though his fingers keep moving. "Let me know if you want something, uh, something in particular. I'll--" Sokka seems to grit his teeth and have to force the words out-- "--I'll do whatever you're into."

What is he into? So much time has passed with this part of his life on hold, Zuko draws a blank. Normal things. Fooling around with other attractive young members of the nobility. Fucking them.

"Knowing you, I'm guessing abduction, fire play, flogging, rope stuff, maybe uniforms... am I close?"

The thought crosses Zuko's mind that he could abase Sokka beyond the telling of it by instructing him to keep going, then simply getting up and leaving for the night. But Zuko wants to come inside that perfect ass at some point this evening, perhaps while whispering mortifying things in Sokka's ear, so Zuko waves him onward. "You keep going. I'll join in when I'm ready." Beneath the water Zuko strokes his own cock, watching Sokka's expression falter and neutralize as his fingers join and rotate and separate, join and rotate and separate.

"You have some idea what you're doing," Zuko observes.

"More than Katara," Sokka mutters. "She's an innocent."

"She _was_."

Sokka absorbs the statement like a body blow, his head tipping down, his face momentarily turning crushed, but the emotion transforms a second later into a look at Zuko of such hatred Zuko raises his eyebrow, watching Sokka suppress his forceful, instinctive reactions with curiosity. In the end, most of the emotion vanishes from Sokka's face, though his mouth tightens. "I know what I like. That's all."

That further sharpens Zuko's attention. "You know how you like your cock sucked, or you like to shove your fingers up your ass?"

Sokka flushes an angrier and more humiliated shade of red. For a second Zuko thinks he'll refuse to answer. "I can suck myself," he says curtly.

"That's interesting," Zuko says, evaluating Sokka's height with his lean tanned body bent jack-knifed over the side of the pool. Sokka is a few inches shorter than him. Zuko watches him, feeling an odd sort of hunger for what he's seeing, and lets himself imagine Sokka with his ass backed up against a wall, visualizing the commoner lifting head and shoulders and leaning in to get a few inches of that thick cock in his mouth. At some point, Zuko knows he wants to see that for real. "And is that why you look so practiced at finger-fucking your own ass?"

"No. I just. Know what to do," Sokka says, his voice tight.

"How is that?"

"I just know," Sokka says shortly.

Zuko lets it go, for now. "Katara begged me to fuck her," Zuko says idly, just to see the reaction he'll get. "Why don't you do the same?"

Sokka's chest heaves against the steel like he's having a panic attack, or like he's inchoate with rage, and the look on his face says it's the latter. Presently Sokka seems to get himself under control enough to comply. "I want you to fuck me," Sokka mutters.

"I can't even hear you, speak up."

"I want you to fuck me," Sokka says, louder this time and angrier, like now his fury has temporarily subsumed his abashment, and he actually shakes his ass a little, his hips shifting, the muscles bunching and releasing. "I want you to fill me up, take me and make me yours, break me in--" Sokka breaks off as though he's remembered himself, and his eyes squeeze shut hard. "Please, fuck my ass," he finishes, shamed again, but all around it's not a bad performance. Zuko almost claps a little.

Zuko rises, walking around the sitting ledge, maneuvering around Sokka's legs and lining up behind him. Zuko has to bend his knees to achieve the correct height, but the position is acceptable.

"Break you in," Zuko repeats, weighing this phrase, and he reaches around to measure Sokka's arousal via a grope. What he's startled to discover is that not only is Sokka fully erect, by the time he reaches adulthood he's likely to be hung like a komodo rhino. Still Zuko asks the question he's mulling over, interested in how Sokka will answer it. "Do you like cock, Sokka?"

"Why do you care?" Sokka demands, and because Zuko chooses that moment to press the tip of his cock into Sokka's loosened asshole, the final word comes out choked.

Zuko squeezes into him a little bit further. The entry ring of Sokka's ass feels tighter than Katara's cunt, of course, wrenchingly so, but Zuko knows from experience girls are all-around more snug and clinging. Katara's sex was both deliciously hot and responsively wet, and he likes that no one else has touched her but him. On the other hand, Zuko remembers fucking boys feeling uniquely slippery, enclosed and different, and this thing with Sokka gives Zuko a distinct sense of crossing boundaries beyond boundaries--that he's not only fucking his captive, but his Water Tribe male captive at that, violating him even more intimately than he did Katara. Zuko likes both. He honestly isn't sure whether he has a preference.

However, the first inch of Sokka's ass feels less pleasurable overall for the relative dryness of saliva as a sexual lubricant. The thought crosses Zuko's mind that the post-soak sesame oil in the tray nearby would fix this problem, and pulling fully out he leans far enough away to identify and pluck the bottle from the assortment of lotions, washes and cleansers. Zuko never bothers to use this particular oil, and the bottle's nearly full. "I don't want to keep you if you'll never enjoy this."

"How magnanimous, o great overlord," Sokka says darkly, but he seems to stop himself there. "You're out of your mind if you think Katara would ever like it with you."

Zuko uncorks the bottle with a little twist of the cap and pours a good ounce over his fingers. A portion of the liquid drips down into the pool below. Only a few drops are needed for post-soak moisturizing purposes, but Zuko wants this fuck to feel as exquisite as Sokka's bubble ass promises. "You don't think so? I got her off in a couple of minutes." A slight exaggeration, but not much of one.

Sokka scoffs in disbelief. "Wait, are you serious? You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care whether you believe it or not, because it's the truth." Zuko lines his oil-slicked cock back up against Sokka's hole, then pushes in. The insertion of the tip goes smooth and slippery now before he encounters resistance further in. Sokka makes a small suffering noise in his throat, lurching forward and then holding painstakingly still like an animal caught in a trap. "Physically she liked it," Zuko says thoughtfully. "Sometimes girls need time to get used to an idea."

Zuko pushes in a little farther, enjoying Sokka's tightness. Sokka's teeth appear to be gritted, and he takes the breach stoically.

Zuko pries Sokka's clamped jaw open with his clean hand, forcing two fingers into his mouth. Sokka sucks his fingers obediently, as if he knows what's expected of him, lavishing the pads of Zuko's fingers with his tongue as if he welcomes this distraction from the pain. The stimulation doesn't do much for Zuko, but the willing and prompt submission gets him even harder. Zuko withdraws his fingers from between Sokka's lips, and giving one conclusively strong shove inwards he bottoms out, finally sheathed.

Sokka screams when his insides fully yield before Zuko's incursion, which measures well beyond where Sokka's fingers could reach. Zuko's expecting this reaction or something approximating it, so he stops, only pinning Sokka's curvy ass to the side of the basin with his hips. Sokka clenches and writhes, his whole body thrumming. Zuko knows girls hurt their first time; obviously he hasn't experienced that pain firsthand, but he has messed around with boys before, just a couple before his banishment, and he experimented enough to know how excruciating anal feels. Sokka rocks his torso back and forth as he copes with the agony, but he returns to his stolid silence after that single outcry.

Zuko wants to humiliate Sokka, but he has no particular desire to hurt him more than is necessary, so to distract himself Zuko rubs his oily fingers against his leg under the water to rinse them the barest amount. He then leans forward and takes the opportunity to study the wet string wrapped around Sokka's ponytail.

"Your hair is weird," Zuko says. With the taut clenching around his cock, the instinct to thrust is strong, but if there's one thing Zuko's acquired in exile, it's self-control. His cock twitches, and there's just something about Sokka that does it for Zuko, giving him an almost overpowering yearning to fuck the place so slippery and tight around him. Zuko continues to wait and pick at the coils wrapped around Sokka's shock of hair, trying to discover where exactly the string is tucked into itself so he can pull it out.

"You're one to talk," Sokka says weakly. The internal contractions of his body are growing fainter and farther apart, attenuating. "That's my warrior's wolftail. What's yours, even?"

"Everything's warrior something with you." Zuko finally finds success, tugging the string out and unwinding it. He runs his fingers to the extent he can through Sokka's short and narrow curtain of hair, clumped-up with water as it is. 

"Your unicorn's horn? The fountainhead?"

Zuko ignores his stupid naming suggestions, answering the question seriously. "It's not a traditional Fire Nation style. I shaved it into this at the time of my banishment." Now that he's caught the Avatar and holds him prisoner, his father will restore his honor, and... "I'm going to regrow it now."

Leaning down again, this time sideways, Zuko runs his hand up Sokka's leg, groping at the solid muscle of Sokka's calf and feeling the strength of Sokka's thigh. Distractions, distractions all. Everything in his core, his groin, demands he get going already and _thrust_.

"If I choose you, you're going to grow yours out too," Zuko tells him. "I like more to grab on to than this."

He's expecting a sarcastic complaint or a smart remark, but Sokka says nothing. Zuko leans both forward and to the side, checking out Sokka's face. Sokka looks incongruously peaceful and relaxed, his expression smooth, and his sun-bronzed cheeks have at last lost their angry flush. The shaking vibrations of his body have diminished to a small quivering.

Zuko slaps Sokka's asscheek once, hard enough to leave his hand stinging. Sokka's head jerks back and he yelps, startled out of his sensual trance.

Zuko vaguely remembers that trance feeling, the sexual daze after the pain at last gives way. "Good to go?"

"... yeah." Sokka sounds surprised by Zuko's solicitousness. "Go ahead."

It's fortunate this is his second fuck of the day, because Zuko would never have been able to stand waiting this long otherwise. He pulls out slowly, and pushes back in as leisurely as he can manage. Sokka lets out a small grunt, but that's all. 

Ancestors know Zuko's held off long enough, and he starts to fuck Sokka hard after that, pressing his hips to Sokka's ass and grinding into him forcefully. Zuko's other thoughts fade out as he focuses on the tightness of the initial inch of muscle, the warm prison beyond, and the delicious slipperiness as he moves from one to the other and back, sawing in and out. He's fucking one of his most annoying enemies, now his captive, willingly serving him in bed. Or in this case, bent over the side of a recessed bathtub. Over the last three years Zuko's lost any taste he had for spontaneity, but this is fine. Zuko runs his fingers up along Sokka's neck to the back of his bald scalp, threading fingers through the sheaf of his damp hair, and Sokka's head arches up into his hand even as Sokka's rounded ass begins to move back into Zuko's hips.

Zuko hisses at the feeling of Sokka fucking back against him, meeting his thrusts with a gratifying amount of stopping power. Some time passes before Zuko feels himself getting close again, and he backs off his thrusting, then stops entirely. He needs a breather, and much as he'd like to come with Sokka's ass under his hands, he wants a change of position too because his legs are starting to ache. Pulling out he gestures beyond the water.

"Lie on the floor on your back," Zuko says.

In a display of upper bodily musculature, Sokka easily hauls himself up from the pool with both hands and gets out on his knees, only wincing once as his hips shift. He stretches out as instructed, but not without a scowl. "This too is going to be incredibly comfortable, I can tell."

"You can put your clothes under your head," Zuko says, following him out of the water. The air feels quite cold. Zuko needs to get back inside Sokka soon or he'll lose his hard-on to the chill. Sokka, on the other hand-- Sokka's fully hard from being fucked and shows no signs of shrinkage despite the temperature of the air. Maybe hailing from the frozen wastelands means his peasant's flesh is accustomed to the cold. His shaft is blushed and heavy with arousal and his tip is dripping. Zuko stares for a few seconds. Just as Katara was beautiful standing naked for the taking, Sokka too is beautiful in his unmet need, his body long and lean and brown and _hard_ as he arranges himself on the steam-warmed steel floor as commanded, his hips and buttocks flexing in tiny occasional wanting movements, as though he's unconsciously seeking somewhere to put his cock, a closed hand or a mouth or anything, or as though he wants to be filled again with a shaft to push back against. Overall, it's quite a sight. Zuko realizes he's staring and his mouth feels dry, and he finally looks away.

Sokka expresses no appreciation for Zuko's gracious consideration, only twists his head around looking until he sees his pants and overtunic. Grabbing the two garments and balling them up into a mound, he shoves them under his neck as a makeshift pillow.

"Better?"

Sokka grunts. "Palatial."

Zuko grabs his own neater pile of clothes, loosely rolling them into a makeshift cushion. The height won't be ideal, but it'll help him hit the spot inside Sokka that will make him scream in pleasure instead of pain. Zuko has a sense Sokka will be shaken to his frozen foundations by orgasming without his cock being touched. The memory will probably eat at him like termites in wood. "Put this under your ass."

Sokka flushes at the instruction, but he follows the direction, lifting his pelvis awkwardly and propping his butt up. Zuko moves forward a few inches on his knees, pulling Sokka's hips towards him and cradling Sokka's ass with the edges of his spread thighs. He thrusts back in while tugging Sokka closer up to him. The renewed heat encasing his cock is delicious, a relief but one that only urges Zuko on.

"If you hadn't hesitated so long to come to me we could be in my bed right now," Zuko says mildly, pausing to pour another bit of oil into his palm. "And I might not have touched your sister at all."

Sokka turns even redder at the first sentiment (at the thought of being in Zuko's bed? at the thought of Zuko being human enough to possess a bed?) and snarls at the second. "She deserves better than you," Sokka spits out.

At first Zuko thinks he'll ignore this outburst, but then the implication nearly makes him smile. "And you don't? You deserve exactly what I'm going to give you?"

Zuko takes Sokka's large cock in hand, coating Sokka's shaft in a soft film of oil. Sokka's lips part and he thrusts up once into Zuko's hand as though he can't help himself.

"Good to know," Zuko says. "So much for that warrior's pride." Sokka glares at him hatefully, but Sokka's hips continue to flex in small movements as Zuko jerks him slow and lazy, and the sensations translate to gratifying tension around Zuko's cock. "Do you like that?"

The question is meant to be rhetorical, as the answer is more than clear from the way Sokka's starting to buck up into his hand, but the Water peasant's recovered his mind enough to respond. "I like that I won't get pregnant," Sokka says pointedly.

"Maybe that's a mark in Katara's favor," Zuko tells him, and Sokka snarls, though his hips continue to flex under Zuko's stroking.

"If you-- I'll kill you," Sokka swears.

Zuko's never before received a death threat during sex. Zuko purposefully increases the pace at which he's jerking Sokka off, reducing the Water boy to gasps and thrusts up into his hand. "She was timid, and a bit boring," Zuko says, because who can resist lighting such a short and inviting fuse?

This opinion is enough to abruptly still Sokka's hips, like his desire's been flash-burned by these words. "I don't want to hear about how it felt to rape my sister," Sokka says loudly, his azure-blue eyes blazing.

"I didn't rape her. I didn't force her to do anything."

Sokka's fists are clenched, and he looks like he's barely resisting the impulse to sock Zuko in the jaw. "Maybe it wasn't rape, but don't pretend for a second that it was freely chosen."

"Water boy, if you don't want to be here, then leave. You have that choice and she did too." Zuko drops Sokka's cock, pulls out and moves to rise. He's half-bluffing, perhaps. He's prepared to walk away but is fully expecting Sokka to stop him, and he's not disappointed. Sokka's bolting upright and grabbing his arm well before Zuko can stand or draw away. Again Zuko is struck by the fierce strength in Sokka's blunt fingers.

"I do," Sokka insists, face flushed with repressed anger. "Want to be here. Or-- I don't want Katara to be here, which amounts to the same thing because you're a dick."

"All the beaten say such about their conquerors," Zuko says, yanking his arm out of Sokka's grasp, but he doesn't get up, only sets his hands on his thighs. "Convince me to stay or I'm leaving."

A visible struggle takes place on Sokka's face, amusing to watch. "Please, Zuko-- Fire Prince Zuko." Sokka glares at him, impotent anger scrunching his peasant-handsome features. "I want your dick back in my ass. Your hand back on my dick, please." This last comes out in almost a whisper, and Zuko feels sufficiently coaxed. "Please, fuck me again."

"First there's something I want to know," Zuko says coolly, sliding his hands over Sokka's chest, plucking at Sokka's nipples as his hands roam. 

Sokka groans at the stimulation. "What?'

"You were about to tell me whether you like cock."

Sokka avoids his eyes.

"Tell the truth, and make me believe it," Zuko says. "Or I leave and choose Katara."

Sokka's voice comes out strained and high-pitched. "I don't know!"

"You're a pathetic liar," Zuko says, and he gives Sokka's rock-solid, slippery cock a vigorous slap, making the shaft bounce around. "Last chance to tell me the truth."

Sokka croaks and his hands instantly and protectively go to his cock, and at last he gives way. "Alright, yes! Sometimes. Are you happy now?!"

"Yes," Zuko says. Though he has no real impulse to actually smile, he's smiling on the inside.

Zuko lines back up with Sokka's asshole, grabbing one of Sokka's ankles and resettling Sokka's leg over his shoulder. Sokka's mouth falls open when Zuko penetrates him that way, spread so far open to him, and Sokka lets out half a moan before he clams up.

"You seemed to like that," Zuko goads him. The sesame moisturizing oil is light, designed to soak into skin quickly, and Zuko grabs the bottle again and drizzles a little more over his cock. "That's why you keep turning redder than a Fire Nation banner," Zuko says before he thrusts back inside. "It shames you that you want to be my little cocksleeve."

Sokka looks like he has a furious protest shrieking to erupt from behind his tightly pressed lips, but he makes no sound until he gasps at the hard drive inward. Knowing what Zuko knows about Sokka, the peasant's outrage doesn't bother him like Katara's fear did; Sokka's unhappiness feels far different than Katara's. Fucking this Water Tribe boy, even acutely aware of his emotional turbulence, just feels to Zuko like winning.

"Now I'm going to slam the come out of you, just like you want me to."

Before he responds, Sokka wraps his free leg around Zuko as if to guard against Zuko pulling away again. "I don't want _you_ particularly to--"

"Like you want _someone_ to," Zuko corrects himself, leaning in. "Just so happens to be me. Anyone who'll fill this needy little hole. How many boys have you gotten into bed?"

"A couple," Sokka says shortly.

"And you keep it secret, I bet. Your biggest secret. Afraid of being less than a man. I bet it consumes you."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

True that chasing the Avatar consumed him for years, but Zuko won that contest with the ultimate victory. "Have you even had a girl?" Zuko asks, winding his fingers through Sokka's unkempt hair, pulling his head sideways and biting his neck above the choker Sokka called a carcanet.

Sokka gasps, but his tone turns lighter, as if he's found something to be cheerful about, as though he's pleased to get his digs in too. "Honestly, I don't think it matters. You're the one manipulating your prisoners into sex, which makes me manlier than you on your manliest day."

"You think so? Would a real man be this hungry for his adversary's cock stuffed up inside him?" Zuko enunciates the words with deliberate toxicity, as though he means them. "Just like I gave your sister."

Being taken unwillingly and dominated is one thing, but Zuko fails to see how willingly being penetrated is a choice that specifically diminishes masculinity. Nevertheless, poking at Water Tribe cultural hangups will for a certainty drive the needle in, and the one-two strike of these taunts is even more effective than Zuko expects, getting Sokka struggling violently underneath him as though he's changed his mind about cooperating. 

Zuko responds in the way that feels most natural--grappling with him in answer, knocking Sokka's raised leg sideways and holding him down with hips and hands and overall heft. Zuko is the trifecta of older, heavier, and taller and he has no fear Sokka can overpower him. As they wrestle Zuko seizes Sokka by the wrists, and the control feels exhilarating. But this isn't rape, and Zuko soon lets go, curling and knitting all ten of his fingers together with Sokka's, holding the peasant boy's arms in place above his head more intimately. The move seems to take Sokka aback, stilling his writhing. With his mouth Zuko captures Sokka's lips, ravishing Sokka's mouth with his tongue, and he resumes thrusting smoothly.

Sokka's strength surprises Zuko, though. As Sokka renews his struggles, thrashing to the extent he's able with his hands immobilized and his legs spread wide by Zuko's hips, Zuko's cock slips out and suddenly Sokka's rolling them over with momentum on his side. Zuko's loose pile of clothing gets left behind, and Zuko finds himself on the bottom, stunned and staring up at his willful captive. Their fingers are still intertwined; Sokka hasn't pinned him in retaliation. Sokka looks surprised too, and it's only the startled expression on his face, suggesting he didn't see this coming, that stops Zuko from throwing him off and ordering him out.

That, and the fact that Sokka immediately seems to remember his original purpose, because he mashes his lips down into Zuko's for a second, then positions himself upright. Sokka disentangles one hand, finds Zuko's cock with his fingers and eases the tip back inside his wet, loosened hole. 

Zuko looks up at him, saying nothing-- he's not sure what _to_ say-- but as Sokka slides back down his shaft Zuko finds himself sighing with pleasure.

Sokka rides him like that, slowly at first before he finds a rhythm, reclaiming both hands to balance lightly with them on Zuko's chest. For a short time his face turns open and vulnerable, as though he's fully given in.

"Spread your legs," Sokka murmurs, caressing the place Zuko's thighs meet, and when Zuko unthinkingly obliges him Sokka strokes the fingertips of one hand over Zuko's sack and up along the seam between his legs. The light tickling sensation feels exquisite. Zuko hasn't fucked like this in so long. Sokka holds true to Zuko's previous experience; the boys were as eager to please him as the girls, and the boys had a superior sense of technique, knowing what felt good.

"Faster," Zuko groans out, thrusting up.

Sokka follows his direction, leaning harder on Zuko's chest, his hips moving in a way Zuko knows he won't long be able to resist. "Jerk yourself off, I know you want to," Zuko breathes, and it's worth the loss of Sokka's hand cupping his balls to see Sokka take his heavy cock in hand, moving the foreskin over the head, slow for a few strokes, then faster, biting his lip with his face upturned.

Sokka jacks himself as he fucks up and down on Zuko's cock, and while he might hate Zuko he seems to have put it on hold, with lust pushing everything else out of his expression. When he looks down, he gazes at Zuko with his eyes narrowed and his mouth open, but the only thing he looks is horny. Not ashamed, not murderous. The pace of their push and pull becomes dizzying, and Zuko's close and holding back, because he can tell Sokka's close too. He's gripping Sokka's hips probably too hard, digging his fingers in in a way that will leave bruises later, but Zuko needs to ground himself somehow so he just goes ahead. Everything here belongs to him, this room and this ship and the guards and every inch of this boy and his beautiful, reluctant sister. Sokka lets out a cry, and then another, and then another, escalating.

Sokka's insides contract like a rippling vise when he orgasms, and Zuko drives his hips up a few times and lets go as Sokka shoots his load all over Zuko's chest, thrusting forward into his own hand. Watching Sokka come while sitting on his cock is scorching hot, like all the rest of this has been, and Zuko shudders in his pleasure. Some of Sokka's come splatters on Zuko's face. Zuko spurts inside Sokka and it feels like he's dying from how good it is, clutching Sokka's hips to his brutally. He feels the sensation as long as he can, savoring the aftermath as the pleasure subsides.

When the sexual ecstasy has passed, leaving him limp and tired, Zuko dabs at his face a little, wiping the mess off where he feels its wetness on his cheek and chin and shoulder. Thankfully none got in his eyes.

At some point he forgot this was supposed to be solely about his gratification and Sokka's humiliation. It's strange.

"Can I get off you?" Sokka asks hoarsely, and Zuko nods once.

Sokka lifts off Zuko's softening cock and swings his leg over Zuko awkwardly. Sokka arranges Zuko's rumpled pile of clothes and sits, probably leaking out come onto them, but Zuko finds he cares little. He has a clean towel waiting for him and a number of uniforms in his cabin, and soon he'll have all his princely raiment back. Zuko closes his eyes, remembering his life from before. He realizes that after the passage of three years nothing will fit him, he'll need a whole new wardrobe sewn. He imagines what his father will say to welcome him home. His impending homecoming as a hero of the Fire Nation feels as satisfying to contemplate as his captive Water boy felt to fuck.

Zuko can't remember the last time he felt this... mellow. Like everything is right with the world.

"That was the first--" Sokka breaks off. "I usually give rather than receive," Sokka confesses.

"How was it?" Zuko asks without thinking. He should take another immersion to rinse Sokka's come off his chest and face and finish washing up, but he feels too languid to move yet.

Sokka's barely even sounds outraged anymore, mostly dismayed and drained. "Good. It was good. I still hate you, but yeah, I'd do it again. I'm flexible."

Zuko opens his eyes and tucks an arm behind his neck both to cushion his head against the unforgiving floor and to better look up at Sokka, because he can't quite tell whether Sokka is telling the truth, or saying what he thinks Zuko wants to hear to choose him over Katara.

Sokka takes a deep, audible breath, seeming to regain his strangely jocular equilibrium, or feigning a revival. "Flexible, get it? Bendy-flexible, and doing whatever you want? Tell me I'm not entertaining. That's what you wanted, right? Personal entertainment?"

"Your babble isn't entertaining." Mildly diverting at best. Entertaining enough to agitate that Zuko wouldn't gag him, though, despite his insolence.

"That's a shame. A true waste," Sokka says sadly. "The other stuff was good though, right?"

Zuko's half-established plan had been to make Katara his plaything and utterly crush her brother's spirit beneath Zuko's heel, first by fucking him and humiliating him using his own nonsensical cultural mores, then by dumping him somewhere to live with his failure to protect his sister and the memory of breaking one of his people's biggest taboos for nothing but Zuko's pleasure. But Sokka has proven beyond Zuko's wildest imaginings.

The sex was better than good. Sex with Sokka was... singular.

Zuko holds his true opinion in reserve. "It was acceptable."

"Are you kidding me?!" Sokka bursts out. "Come on, that was as hot as your scalding bathwater."

Zuko gives a little shrug.

Sokka's brow scrunches at him. "I get now where Katara was coming from with physically liking it while simultaneously thinking you're the biggest dick imaginable." Sokka flickers his eyes down and dips his chin slightly, indicating his body. "You are so into this. You can admit it. Who am I gonna tell?"

"I don't care who you tell about any of this." Zuko allows the ghost of a smile to touch his lips. Zuko's going to blow this rube's mind, then rub his face in his own provincial outlook. "You think you're flexible? I might let you fuck me if I didn't think it would go to your head."

Sokka looks at him in shock.

"The Fire Nation doesn't subscribe to the Water Tribes' stupid beliefs about manhood. You can fuck or be fucked, no one cares." Zuko's savagely enjoying Sokka's stunned-into-silence astonishment. "What matters is how you conduct yourself, in the war and in your life. We don't share your sexism either, we're egalitarian. In my country both men and women are trained to bend if they have the talent. In our battalions men and women serve alongside one another."

Zuko wouldn't really let this Water Tribe commoner take him, he just wants to make a point of the Fire Nation's superiority. But Zuko can see the temptation, all the same. He looks sideways at Sokka, sitting with his trim, muscular legs crisscrossed and half pulled up, his wiry-strong arms curled loosely around his knees, his expression turned thoughtful.

"I... see," Sokka says finally, bemused.

For a few moments they remain in silence, Zuko stretched out on the warm metal floor and Sokka sitting at his side. "You know," Sokka begins, "it's only the Northern Water Tribe that--"

"That said, it _will_ disgrace Katara to bear my child unwed," Zuko cuts him off lazily, just to get Sokka's dander back up. Sokka has two effortless weak points: affronts to his fragile sense of his own masculinity and insults to his beloved sibling. Zuko looks forward to uncovering more of these wide-open cracks in the imperviousness Sokka tries to wear like shabby armor. "If she were Fire Nation, it would dishonor me too. But since she's a Water Tribe nobody, it will only reflect badly on her."

Sokka's positively mottled with rage. He's almost too easy to bait, yet Zuko doesn't even remotely feel the strange guilt he did after Katara left his quarters. "If you release her, she might spend all her time trying to rescue me and Aang, but if you keep her and set me free, you're gonna have a whole new problem because I'm going to spend all my time trying to kill you." Sokka backbites the words out with such seething menace Zuko's intrigued in spite of himself. Sokka flares with passion like a man of the Fire Nation, though he lacks the necessary self-control even a novice bender would possess. And Zuko's enjoyed Sokka's ferociously mingled shame and fury. Hot-tempered, sharp-edged, challenging, _experienced_, charmingly fun to provoke. Even when Sokka unexpectedly spiraled out of control, he remained squarely in the palm of Zuko's hand, and the struggle for dominance only made the whole thing better. Katara was shy and fearful enough that Zuko certainly wasn't granted access to whatever tremulous passion she keeps locked away, and that's saying something because she climaxed swooning in Zuko's arms. Maybe Katara doesn't have it in her, maybe she's peace and softness, tears and water all the way through.

Zuko still wants her though, if he's being honest with himself. If she can be persuaded.

"I'll take that into consideration," Zuko tells her livid brother, and gracefully Zuko shifts his body sideways and slips back into the steaming water to wash himself off.

*

The final decision is not difficult to make. The next day he has his guards bring the two of them back to kneel before him.

"For the personal diversion I described, I have decided to keep Sokka," Zuko announces.

Sokka's expression wars between triumph, anger, and shame. Being chosen as Zuko's plaything was the prize neither of them wanted, but with it Sokka's won protection for his sister. Katara buries her face in her hands, and Sokka wipes his expression clean of his mess of feelings, putting on a strong face for Katara as they mutually turn and wrap each other in a tight embrace. Zuko doesn't motion to the guards to separate them, choosing to simply watch instead. Katara's chest heaves against Sokka's with soundless sobs.

"I'm glad," Sokka tells her, though his voice is shaking. "I can handle this, don't worry. I'll be fine."

"But I'm not letting you go either, Katara," Zuko continues, and both Water peasants instantly look at him in shock. Katara's stunned face is streaked with tears, as is the shoulder of Sokka's blue tunic. Sokka's face is dark with fury.

"You gave us your word," Sokka says, low and violent.

"Hardly. I told you my plan, and my plan has changed. Your sister made it clear she's just going to harrass my troops and try to rescue the Avatar if I let her go. You two were thorns in my side long enough."

Sokka starts to shout out an argument, but Zuko talks over him, addressing Katara, and after a light cuff to the head by one of the guards Sokka too falls silent to hear his words. "However, I will make one concession: I'll be careful with you. Your brother has indicated he does not want you bearing my child."

Though the scenario is not a likely one, Zuko's not sure whether a provincial commoner producing a prince's firstborn would cause problems with the line of succession. He's not about to risk it, though. With his honor and birthright restored, Zuko will be zealously careful of his place and position in the Fire Court. Save for his first time when he lost himself in the moment, he always spilled his seed over girls' bodies, however much he wanted to spend himself in their cunts. But these two Water peasants don't need to know any of that. As far as they understand, it's a compromise.

Katara's cheeks flush a deep, attractive red. Zuko looks back at Sokka, whose teeth are bared in his familiar snarl. "That will be your reward for compliance," Zuko tells him, glancing between the two of them.

"You said you could learn and be better," Zuko says, nodding at Katara. "We'll see. Maybe your brother can teach you a few things." Zuko motions to his guards as Sokka howls with incoherent rage. "Take them away."

**Author's Note:**

> September 23, 2020 - fixed the canonical mistake at the end about how much Fire Nation history is available to its citizenry.


End file.
